Page 49 of The Rake is Taken

Ashcroft bowed before her, flexing his hands, the look on his face one of bewilderment. Her gift still seemed to astound him. “May I?” he asked and gestured to the bench.

She gasped and yanked her feet to the ground, smoothing her skirt. “Of course, Your Grace.” The man must see she was no one’s idea of a suitable duchess. Incorrigible. Hadn’t Finn called her that with no small amount of admiration, his words muffled against her moist skin? He liked her passionate nature when the austere duke looked like he favored obedience.

“Ashcroft, please. We needn’t stand on such rigid formality.” He smiled, though no warmth reached his eyes. “Lady Hamilton, may I ask what you did to poor Hester at my summer party? We found him stumbling around the lawn, clutching his head and stammering about my kissing you. Which”—he coughed into his fist, his brow winging high—“I think I’d recall.”

“Along with my slight gift…” She chewed on her nail and gestured inanely. “I’m able to erase the recent past from someone’s mind, a parlor trick I’ve mostly used for my own trivial benefit. To avoid scrapes, that sort of thing.” Scandals her guardian angel had saved her from when her gift had not. The realization made her chest ache, her hand curling around the stone bench and sending the jagged nicks into her skin. At that moment, she missed Finn so much, she wondered how she’d get past it.

“My dear, your ability to blast the heat from my fingertips is demonstrated whenever I’m within a hundred yards of you. Nothing slight about it.” He stared wonderingly at his scarred hands, and she recalled the stories about his many military escapades. “It’s bloody remarkable.”

Her breath seized, the illumination in her heart dimming to a tiny, wretched dot. He would marry her for her gift while Finn pushed her away despite it. She picked at a loose thread on her skirt, gathering her courage. She and Ashcroft couldn’t build a relationship, even one as associates in the League, based on lies. “I have to be honest…”

“Let me guess. You’re in love with young Finn, you and half of England,” he muttered, issuing a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort. As if she’d chosen to place her money on the horse everyone expected to win. “I noted the way you looked at each other standing by my fountain, even if you were both trying mightily to stamp out the fire. I imagine he’s the man Hester observed kissing you, but your mind-scramble rendered him a faulty witness.”

Relieved to have her secret revealed, she steadied herself on the bench, her gaze catching his and holding. His eyes were stunning. Warm honey shot through with streaks of amber. Now she knew why some in the ton referred to him as feline. “Yes, I’m in love with Finn Alexander, more the fool, I know.”

“That makes one of us. About love, I mean. It isn’t on my agenda. But if it’s on yours, as it appears it is, you can keep him. Once the matter of an heir is settled, of course, because a bloody duke has to have one and if the first babe comes out looking as exquisite as your erstwhile love, that would be a problem.” He frowned suddenly, again doing the hand flex. “You don’t want to know how many times Mayfair has almost gone up in smoke. This entire city breathes a sigh of relief when you sit next to me. Thanks to Viscountess Beauchamp, I have more control, but still. You’re my good luck charm.”

Arrogant male,she reflected with a grimace. She’d love to tell him what he could do with his good luck charm, but one didn’t often say to a duke what onethought. What a constricting marriage that restriction would create. “Finn would never share. I don’t know how I know this, but I know this.”

Ashcroft blew out a breath, gave the midnight-black strands hanging in his face a swipe. “His brother has given him the mistaken notion that marriages are created for love when they’re business arrangements. Julian and Piper are an exceptional example. We’ll be a transcendentally exceptional example in our way, aside from my saving your family from financial catastrophe, which is commonplace.” Closing in on her, he tipped her chin high. Impersonal and emotionless when she wanted no one’s touch but Finn’s. At least she didn’t flinch. “Let’s not let dust gather on this conversation. Do you need words of love? Is that what’s missing? I apologize, I fear I’m going into this too brusquely when I usually exhibit marginal charisma. Your gift rattles me to my bones when I’m normally steadfast. Humble apologies all around.”

“Finn never gave me words of love, Your Grace.” But he’d shown her in other ways.

As she’d shown him.

Ashcroft frowned and let his hand fall to his lap. Victoria was glad she didn’t know him well enough to read the look on his face. “Oh, that hardly signifies. For a man, at least. We’re not good at admitting our feelings.”

“Young Finn,” she whispered and laughed, a rigid, harsh sound. “Are you so much older? May I ask?”

A world-weary mien crossed Ashcroft’s face. “Seven years, I believe. But my experience as a soldier and this blasted gift have aged me beyond what’s presented.” He massaged the back of his neck and exhaled softly, seemingly torn between sharing what he must with the woman who would be his wife versus keeping his own counsel. “Let’s just say I feel ahundredyears older.”

“When should we…the marriage?” she murmured as a raindrop struck her cheek. Helpful that, so the commanding man next to her wouldn’t notice her tears mixed in. “Your gracious offer is much appreciated. My family’s situation is perilous. I’m being childish. Ridiculous to feel anything aside from relief and gratitude. I humbly thank you.”

Ashcroft tilted his head, a penetrating study she’d no idea how to interpret. “I’m on the way to my solicitor to obtain a special license. We can discuss details over a late breakfast tomorrow if that suits.”

She heard only the wind whispering through the lilac bushes and the stalks of grass stirring beneath their feet. And her heartbeat, telling her with a decidedly swift rhythm to forget Finn Alexander. Forget his kisses. Forget the words he’d whispered in her ear when his body surrounded hers. Forget the dimple that lit his cheek when he smiled. Forget how tenderly he’d touched her, held her,listenedto her when she told him about her brother, her loneliness, her isolation. Forget the despair on his face when he’d told her about Freddie. The adorable wonder when he’d expressed his profound desire to establish a relationship with Belle.

“It suits,” she said and rose to her feet.

Ashcroft followed her move, drew her hand to his lips, and pressed a kiss to her gloved fingers. He turned to walk away, then halted, and glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t look so forlorn, my dear. The future has a way of correcting course.”

With that perplexing statement circling the walled garden, her future husband left her to the impending storm and her immense sorrow.

He couldn’t let this dog lie, Sebastian Fitzgerald Tremont, fifth Duke of Ashcroft determined as he climbed into the unmarked carriage and thumped the trap to alert the coachman. A crested conveyance presented too much temptation in the lower reaches, which is precisely where he was headed. Also, he appreciated the anonymity of racing through London’s streets without acknowledgment.

Until he stepped from the coach.

Then, the acknowledgment was ghastly.

He liked Finn, had been in the supernatural trenches with the Alexander family for going on seven years, and if the boy loved, genuinelylovedVictoria Hamilton, Bastian couldn’t stand in the way. Even if his offer was the best she’d ever receive. The smartest decision she could make if one didn’t factor affection into the mix.

Her heartbreaking expression came to mind.

If those morose looks were a common occurrence, Bastian questioned being able to perform his husbandly duty. Her misery would color every facet of her lifeandhis, he knew this well enough from a mother who’d been categorically miserable. How could he bed a woman who looked as sad as the dowager duchess always had? Wasn’t an heir, aside from the lady’s amazing ability to filch heat from his fingertips, the reason he’d agreed to this?

There was the added benefit of Victoria Hamilton being quite lovely.

Quite lovely and in love with a friend.